


Manic Pixie Dream President

by inamamagic



Category: All For One (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Oh god, Right after S2E6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 15:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamamagic/pseuds/inamamagic
Summary: Portia's mad. Really mad. And she wants to make sure Henry knows it.(hate kiss?)





	Manic Pixie Dream President

**Author's Note:**

> T_T these two! WHy do i ship them so HARD (even harder this season??) T_T brb crying, i just want everyone to be happy

Portia shows up at Henry’s, drunk on fury like she’s never been before. She bangs hard enough on the door for her fist to ache, and stands back, waiting for him to open the door.

She hates him, she _hates_ him. She hadn’t been this furious when they’d broken up. Then she’d just been heartbroken. Completely shattered. But this?

This is worse than _any_ of that.

Henry doesn’t respond so Portia resumes her banging. “I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE HENRY ABASCALE! YOU BETTER OPEN THIS DOOR, OR ELSE I’LL —”

Henry opens the door and Portia falls right in. “Or else you’ll what?” he says.

Portia hates him. She hates him so much that her heart is racing hard enough for her to grow lightheaded. She holds onto the wall behind her.

“I am _not_ a Manic Pixie Dream President!” she growls. Henry just smirks at her and shuts the door. Portia sniffs. “I’m not,” she says. “You - you think you can just say whatever the hell you want about me up there, just for the sake of your campaign?”

“Oh, so when I do it, there’s a problem?” asks Henry, the smirk disappearing, only to make way for a glare that gives rise to a ripple of fury inside Portia… among other things.

She’d be lying if she’d said that she didn’t still feel something for him. It’s only her good sense that’s keeping her from getting back together with him - along with other things of course. Like his transition. And the campaign. These things were too complicated to throw fixing their shattered relationship into the mix.

That doesn’t mean the feelings are all gone. And from what Dorothy sometimes lets slip when she’s drunk, she has a slight feeling he might feel the same.

“Portia  — ” Henry, and then he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “You cannot be hitting me with all these double standards right now.”

“What double standards?”

“You - you need to let me off the hook!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up. His brown eyes harden and he takes a step towards Portia, who doesn’t move from where she is, backed up against the wall. “You need to let me off the hook just _once_!”

“Well I’m sorry that actual criminal behaviour kinda outweighs anything I could do,” Portia snaps. “Just because I wanna win this election - just because I wanna show people that I can do _more_ than be cute little Portia —”

“You don’t have to do a total one eighty,” Henry starts, but Portia steps towards him. He doesn’t back down. They’re inches away from each other. His eyes don’t leave hers for a second.

God. She misses him _so much_. More than she has in months. Enough to want to do something really stupid.

His next words throw her right off course.

“You don’t have to become the new _witch_ in charge.”

“What?” Portia exclaims. “Is that what - is that _really_ what you think of me? That I’m just gonna go off the rails and become a horrible person?”

“Well that seems to be all you think _I_ am, so forgive me for not extending you the same curtesy.”

“You _humiliated_ me in front of the entire sorority!”

“And you didn’t?” Henry shouts, stepping towards her. Now their feet are touching. “You called me a traitor and a hypocrite.”

“I’m not a Manic Pixie Dream President!” Portia shouts again. 

Henry takes a final step towards her. He’s now unabashedly in her space, and Portia just…

A ripple of fury surges through her.

“Well,” he whispers. “Prove it.”

So Portia kisses him. 

He kisses her back.

She backs into the wall again, sliding her arms around his waist as he cups her cheek in his palm and she thinks about how much she’s missed his lips on hers. Their tongues meet, exploring the space they’ve stayed away from for so long. 

She’s spent so long thinking about all the reasons why she shouldn’t that she stopped thinking about all the reasons why she _should_. One of those reasons being the way his lips are trailing burning kisses over her jawline to her earlobe, making her tremble. Every inch of her skin feels like it’s on fire, like it’s thrumming with need for him, need she hadn’t even realised she’d suppressed.

Her fingers tighten around the soft wool of his sweater. “Henry…”

He pulls away immediately, brown eyes searching her face. Portia glances at his throat; a vein throbs in the side, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows and clenches his jaw.

“Porshe,” he whispers. “I —”

“No,” Portia breathes, leaning back in throwing her arms around him again. “No. Don’t say it.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“I think you do,” says Henry, stepping away from her. Portia’s heart aches, aches the way it first did when they’d first broken up. “You know we shouldn’t. Not like this. Not now.”

Portia shudders. Her gaze falls to his shoes. He takes her hands and squeezes them before lifting them up and kissing her knuckles. The touch of his lips on her skin sends shivers down her spine.

“I miss you,” she whispers.

“I’m right here,” he says. “You know I am. I don’t want us to hate each other, Porshe. I don’t.”

“I don’t want us to hate each other either.” She rests her forehead on his, heart racing.

“We need time,” says Henry. “We need a lot of time to figure this out. We can’t just jump in - we have to talk about stuff.”

Portia steps away from him. “I didn’t - I didn’t mean to kiss you, I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Henry steps back too. His gaze grows guarded. “What did you mean to do?”

“Not that.” Portia shudders. “It’s… it’s too complicated right now.”

“Yeah,” says Henry, his voice clipped and hard. “It is.”

He crosses his arms, jaw clenched as he stares at Portia. Portia can’t bring herself to look at him. She keeps her eyes trained on his shoes.

“I should go,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” says Henry. “Please do.”

Portia scrambles for the doorknob and slips outside. She practically runs away from the door, away from Henry, and the horrible horrible mistake she’s just made. That’s months and months of work right down the drain. That’s everything they worked so hard to rebuild - gone.

Gone because she’s just as airheaded and silly as everyone thinks she is.

Her chest constricts and her heart pulses with pain. When the first sob racks through her, she has to hold onto the wall to keep from collapsing on the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> angsted myself T_T


End file.
